The Beatles in: McCartney's Silver Hammer
by amishrolf
Summary: The Beatles are stranded in the snowy mountains of Colorado and spend the night in the Stanley Hotel. Paul decides that its a good time for a new song. When the others show disinterest, Paul took it upon himself to convince them with a silver hammer...


The Beatles in:  
(McCartney's SILVER Hammer)

It was a rather cold August 2nd, 1969, when John, Paul, George, and Ringo were taking a trip in their yellow sub-mobile through the mountains of Colorado. It didn't matter to them where they were going; as long as they were able to spread their love of music all across America, the road could take them wherever it wanted. But today, the road was not so kind. Their vehicle gave a loud pop and the yellow sub-mobile slowly came to a stop.

"Aw, bloody hell. Think me engine's shot," said Ringo as he tried turning the keys, hoping there would be a sign of life left in the sub-mobile. The band mates got out of the vehicle and checked the engine. John just shook his head, obviously disappointed.

"Well isn't this just peachy. We're stuck in the middle of these frigid mountains," he sighed, "what I'd do for a shot of honey right now…"  
"Don't worry fellas, I think all I've got to do is to start the engine up manually. I saw this in a movie once; called 'hot-wiring' I'm sure," said Paul, trying to keep the group in good spirits. He reached into the engine to find a pair of wires when he was suddenly introduced to a black puff of smoke. George and Ringo pulled him out as quickly as they could to safety. Paul's face was covered in soot and started coughing, "Okay…so the engine _is_ shot."

"What are we going to do now? We'll freeze to death out here!" cried Ringo.  
"Hey, look," said George as he pointed towards a large and somewhat ominous –looking hotel, "Maybe we can use a phone in there."  
"When did that get there?" Ringo wondered.  
"Who cares how it got there, it looks warm! C'mon let's move the sub-mobile to the side! All together now!" exclaimed John. The other three Beatles went over to John and helped push the sub-mobile just over the curb.

The boys made haste and went inside the building. Inside was lined with extravagant luxurious walls of gold. The carpet was patterned so carefully that the design could hypnotize anyone who stares long enough. Chandeliers hung off the ceilings and lit the area brightly. In front of the band, there was a single man at a reception desk.

"If I didn't know any better…this is a hotel," said George, "and what a one this is, eh?"

"Right you are, sir. Oh my, if it isn't The Beatles! I didn't expect to see anymore interesting folks today." The man grinned rather widely, which sort of made the band members feel a bit uncomfortable. Shaking it off, John was the first to ask, "Can we use your phone, man? We've got a little engine trouble."

The man just snickered, "You and everyone else who tried driving past this Stanley Hotel. Sure, you can use the phone…try to."

The clerk handed John the phone from behind the desk. John gave the clerk a quick glance and picked up the phone to dial. A second after he held the phone to his ear, he pulled it away, curious.

"What's wrong, John?" asked Paul.  
John just shook his head in confusion, "There's no dial tone. Say, you got another one?"  
"I'm afraid they're all dead, Mr. Lennon," laughed the clerk, as he went over to a key rack and handed them a seemingly random set of keys, "Go ahead, take one. You can spend the night here – free of charge. I'll try and send for a repairman in the morning. The rooms have two beds each, so you might want to take two."  
"Thanks…" John said, taking two keys that have rooms right next to one another. He was cautious in taking the keys as the clerk seemed like he was getting a bit stranger by the minute. John turned to the group and whispered to them, "Let's just get the hell away from him."

The boys went out to get their things from the sub-mobile and went off to find their rooms. While traversing the seemingly endless hallways, it almost became unbearable to move around. Eventually, the boys found the rooms and split up; John and Paul in one, Ringo and George in the other. However, there was still a lot of daylight out so the boys had time to kill. They gathered in Ringo and George's room, where they decided to try and come up with songs.

"Well, we've got until morning. What are we gonna write about?" asked the Eggman.  
"I've written a song called 'Octo—', "Ringo was trying to say before he was cut off.  
"I got one! I think it will be a hit single one day," Paul said as he whipped out the lyrics to his new song, "I call it 'Maxwell's Silver Hammer'."

John took a look at the words and lyrics, while Ringo looked at his own disappointed. After reading through it, John raised an eyebrow and looked at Paul, "So you think this is the big winner, hm?"

"Absolutely. Here, George, Ringo, give it a read."  
"This is kind…dark, don't you think? It's a lot different than what we normally do,' said George.  
"You wrote 'While My Guitar Gently Weeps' didn't you?" Paul replied.  
"Yes but, it wasn't really about murder and hitting people over the head with a mallet."  
"But this will be different! See, it'll have an upbeat tune, like one of those annoying whistling tunes that people love."  
"Or hate," John added, "I don't know about this, Paul, but if you want to do it, go ahead. I'm sitting this one out. I'm gonna take a nap," John said as he stood up and left the room back to his and Paul's.

"Oh, that John doesn't know what he's talking about. You guys think it's a good idea right?" asked Paul, wanting some form of approval. George and Ringo both knew what the other was thinking and wanted to agree with John, but didn't have the heart to say anything.  
"Well…" George started, "we won't know until we start practicing, right?"  
"That's the spirit! Now then, let's get our things ready and let's go, go, go!"

The three remaining Beatles in the room began setting things up and the session was going on for hours and hours into the night. Ringo and George were trying not to show it, but the two of them were becoming much wearier and tired as time passed. Paul on the other hand was still in high spirits and wide awake. He continued his singing and even changed the lyrics and notes on the music sheets, which meant Ringo and George had to learn the song over and over again. Ringo in particular was growing more and more annoyed with Paul's song always being chosen over his. Being the underappreciated Beatle for everything other than his drumming skills, Ringo felt as though he was going to snap. Eventually, Paul recognized the fatigue in his band mates' eyes.

"What's the matter fellas, I think we're finally getting it."  
"Dammit…Paul, I'm sorry, but I don't think we can take it anymore. This song is…fruity," admitted Ringo. There was a small pause in the room. Each of the boys looked at one another, when Paul asked to George, "Is that true George?"  
"Well…" George was trying to choose his words carefully, "…I mean, my god it's fruity. I'd rather go travel across the universe with nothing but a pair of beat-up roller skates and an oxygen tank than do this song again."

Paul felt disappointed, but ended up smiling instead of throwing a fit. "Ah, I get it. I guess we have been playing this song a while. You just need some rest. I'll just go to lobby and write up some more. I just want every little thing to be just right."

"Are you sure, Paul? I hope you're not upset. We're just being honest," Ringo said.  
"Aw, its okay, guys. You know what they say, 'all things must pass'," Paul replied, picking up a pen and his papers. He stood up and headed for the door. "If you need me, I'll be in the lobby. Good night, fellas."

With that, Paul left the room. Ringo and George looked at each other again. They were certain that Paul wouldn't take it as well as he did, so the two of them just put their things aside and went to bed. Through the night, George seemed as though he couldn't sleep, as he was worried about Paul. Ringo was fast asleep, so George just up and left the room to go to the lobby and find Paul.

Meanwhile, John had woken up from his nice long nap. He was hungry, so he left his room in search of the kitchen and dining area. He was still half-awake and was somewhat stumbling around the hallways like a drunkard. He doesn't remember drinking much at all before his nap, but even if he did, he probably couldn't remember it anyways. He turned a corner down another hallway and saw at the other end a peculiar yet eerie sight. John rubbed his eyes to see two men dressed up as walruses. Upon closer inspection, the two men were John. The original blinked several times and even looked away from the hall, but the two of them were still there. Becoming terrified, he made a run for the other direction. As he was running, John looked behind him periodically to see if the men were following him. He eventually ran into someone else in the hall.

"Ah, watch where you're going!"  
"Sorry, but I think I'm being followed by…hey, you're that man who starred in that movie with the archeologist." John said, realizing he bumped into the one and only Harrison Ford.  
"That's right, it's me. Where's my family?" Ford asked.  
"Huh?"  
"I said what are you doing here? It's not safe to be in these halls at night." Ford said.  
"Oh, I was just looking for something to eat. Woke up from a nap and felt hungry."  
"Listen, Jack—"  
"It's John."  
"Marco, you shouldn't be worrying about food right now. I sense something bad is gonna go down tonight. You just get back to your room, you hear? I'm working as the groundskeeper here to study a future role with Mr. Spielberg and Mr. Lucas."  
"Really, what role is that?" John asked, kind of curious what an actor like Ford will be up to next.  
"Hell if I know," Ford replied, "all I know is, I got a sixth sense for whatever reason, and you better get back to your room and stay there till morning. If you think there's anything bad happening, just call me through your mind. Got that?"  
John just raised an eyebrow, but then nodded his head, "Um, sure, man. I'll keep that in mind."

With that, Harrison Ford headed into the halls and turned the corner, out of John's sight. John continued back to his bedroom, wondering about the strange events and person he had just encountered. Along the way, John decided to check up on his band mates.

"I don't get it. Where did Paul get to?" George wondered, as he was walking back from the lobby area. In his search, Paul turned out to be missing from the lobby. George had since then been wandering around aimlessly through the hotel. He grew increasingly insecure as he began to feel a claustrophobic sensation about him in the long hallways. He eventually came to a large study where the walls were lined with books and large windows. Towards the center of the room were a desk and a typewriter. The typewriter seemed to have been used. Beside it was Paul's written lyrics.

"He must have been here or…Paul?" George called out, but got no answer. He looked at the typed papers and slid it out of the typewriter to read it. The front page was a cover page which was entitled with the phrase 'I Feel Fine'. George turned to the next, as a whole packet of paper was stuck in the typewriter. The pages were read as followed:

_Bang Bang Maxwell's Silver Hammer came down upon their heads  
Clang Clang Maxwell's Silver Hammer made sure that they were dead  
Bang Bang Maxwell's Silver Hammer came down upon their heads  
Clang Clang Maxwell's Silver Hammer made sure that they were dead  
Bang Bang Maxwell's Silver Hammer came down upon their heads  
Clang Clang Maxwell's Silver Hammer made sure that they were dead_

The same two lines were written over and over, across the page. Not just that page, but also the next one, and the next one after that. George grew more and more afraid as he looked at the papers, when he heard a voice from behind that startled him.

"How do you like it?"  
"Ahh!" George screamed. The voice that called to him was Paul. He had with him a large silver hammer.  
"I put a lot of thought into the song, George. I think this is the version I want to be recorded. It'll be a hit single, George. We can make that single happen, George," Paul said as he walks closer and closer to George. George was pinned against the desk and was shimmying alongside it slowly.  
"Paul, are you feeling alright?"  
"Oh, George…after the comments you and Ringo made about my song, where do you get off asking how do I feel? Well, I feel fine, actually…and you will too after this!"

Paul raised his silver hammer and over his head and swung down on George, who jumped out of the way. George began screaming and ran out of the study to his and Ringo's room. Paul was not too far behind him, silver hammer in hand. Though asleep, Ringo was having a vivid dream in which he was awake and found himself in the middle of a fancy party. He believes he was still inside the hotel, but at the same time, he was certain there was way too many people in the room than the hotel could carry. There were many other famous personalities around Ringo; Lady Gaga, Keith Richards, Moe Howard, Demi Moore and many others. Ringo then found himself walking towards a bar stool and took a seat. He was still mesmerized by the sudden party, when he was asked by the bartender if he wanted a drink. As Ringo looked at his host, he was surprised to see who it was.

"Alfred Hitchcock?" Ringo asked in disbelief.  
"Good evening, Mr. Starr. Welcome to Alfred Hitchcock presents…your dream."  
"This is a dream?" Ringo asked, suddenly feeling a bit hazy.  
"Indeed it is. Would you like a glass of champagne?"  
Ringo shook his head a little, trying to focus, "Um, sure?"  
"Then allow me to present…your choices. I call this one, 'Vanishing Lady'. This one is a favorite among some of the young ladies here. It's so sweet they just seem to…vanish from thin air. Come to think of it, where is Miss Earhart?" Hitchcock wondered, as he briefly looked around the room. Ringo just sort of kept to himself, letting the bartender resume.

"Here is one I call 'Sabotage', specifically made for those who, I say…knew too much."  
"What's in it?"  
"If I were to tell you, I'm afraid you would know too much." Hitchcock said with a sort of eerie smile.

"Finally, over here I have my most popular mixture…the 'Psycho's Blood'. It gives the drinker, first, a feeling of vertigo. Then they will see things outside their windows that only they can see – no one else. Reality will distort around them, they will feel like birds will swoop down and pluck out their eyes…for no reason. To put it shortly, Mr. Starr, my customers would simply…go mad."

As Hitchcock finished his sentence, he raised a gun and fired at Ringo. Screaming, Ringo suddenly found himself back in the hotel room. He sat up quickly when he was shot in his dream, but found out it was just George slamming the door.

"Blimey, George, what are you doing?"  
"Ringo, Paul's gone mad!"  
"Tell me something about him that isn't common knowledge, George. He wrote that fruity song."  
"He's gone mad since we've made those comments about his song being a failure. Now he's swinging around a hammer to smash it on our heads until we like his song!"  
"Then we'll tell him we like it."  
"After the comments we made, I don't think he's gonna buy anything we say no—"

Just then, a knock came on the door. Ringo and George immediately kept quiet. The two of them listened to the footsteps in the hallway as they were getting closer. Ringo, slowly walked over to his drum set and picked up the drumsticks. George grabbed his sitar, both now ready to attack the oncoming evil. The door was purposely left unlocked so that Paul would open it only be ambushed by Ringo and George. Just then, the doorknob turned and clicked open slightly. The door was slowly pushed open and both Ringo and George commenced a royal beating.

"I'll take you on a magical mystery tour to hell, you wanker!"  
"I'll beat your bloody arse with a little help from my friends – George and these All-Starr drumsticks!"  
"Hey, want to know a secret? Here comes the pain!"  
"Twist and shout like the little piggy you are! Now cry baby, cry!"  
"Eat it you—holy Hare Krishnas, Ringo! This isn't Paul!"

The two of them backed off and realized that they had beaten John to a pulp. The two of them helped him up, who then thanked them with a punch to their guts.

"You frikkin' traveling wilbury and big-nosed day tripper, what the hell were you thinking!? Broke me glasses…now I got to use my spare…" John demanded to hear an answer whilst putting on a pair of shades.  
"We thought you were Paul! He's gone mad!" George cried.  
"What the hell are you talking about, George?"  
"We all told him that his Maxwell song is loony. He's taking it very personally right now." Ringo explained.  
"That's right, and now he wants to drop that mallet of his upon _our_ heads!"  
"Is that so? Well then, luckily I bumped into Harrison Ford. He's got that…third eye thing going on." John said. Ringo and George we not sure what he meant, but decided to go along with it. John closed his eyes and tried his hand at calling Ford.

Meanwhile, in the groundskeeper's room, Ford woke up with the call of John's telepathy. He quickly got out of bed and listened to John's call for help, "The Jacob is in trouble! I knew something is gonna go down. Hang on, William!"

Ford grabbed his gear – which is the costume he wore for his hit movie as the famous archeologist – and ran out of the room in search of The Beatles. Back in the bedroom, the boys had barricaded the door with the furniture found in the room.

"Okay. All we have to do now is to just wait until Harrison Ford comes and saves us from Paul. Sounds easy, right?" John asked.  
"Yeah, we'll be safe inside –"  
Just then, a loud bang pushed the furniture away from the door and left a huge gaping hole in it. Seconds later, it was Paul, wearing the most manic face poking through the hole.

"Here's…Silver Hammer Man!" The three other Beatles screamed in terror and huddled together, bracing themselves for the worst. Paul slowly walked up to his soon-to-be ex-band mates while raising his silver hammer.

"If you three would have just understood the idea behind a happy song about murder a great one, none of this would have happened! I just thought now I just need to convince you guys a little better with this here mallet of mine! Happiness is a warm mallet, I say!" Paul said just as he was about swing the hammer down.

"Not so fast, junior!"

It was Harrison Ford to the rescue, as he used his whip to grab Paul and swing him out of the room and away from the other Beatles.

"Come and get it, Hammer Boy!" The three Beatles rejoiced and Ford tipped his fedora to them. "Hey Jude, glad to see you're safe. If you've got trouble, remember that I'll be right here to—"

As suddenly as Harrison Ford had appeared to their rescue, McCartney's silver hammer had come down upon Ford's head, knocking him out immediately. The actor-turned-groundskeeper fell flat on his face and Paul proceeded kick Ford out of the window and into the snow. Paul turned back to other members of the band.

"Jump!" John shouted, telling George and Ringo to jump out of the window, away from Paul. As they do, Paul followed shortly after. The chase led them into the hedge maze. They ran for what seemed like hours in the confusing and haze filled maze. John, George, and Ringo had no idea how far apart they were from Paul, or whether or not he was gaining on them. John suddenly stopped running and turned the other way.

"Why are you stopping John, Paul is going to kill us!" cried Ringo.  
"There's only one of him and three of us! If Harrison Ford couldn't stop him, we're gonna have to take him down ourselves!" John said as he picked up his guitar which fell out of the window along with a few other things. Convinced that they have to fight back, Ringo armed himself with his drumsticks and George picked up his sitar again. The three of them charged towards Paul, who was not too far behind. George swung the sitar at Paul, but it was a miss and Paul countered with his silver hammer, catapulting George through the hedge. Ringo ran up to Paul from behind and started brutally drumming on Paul's head. The hammer man threw a backhand, knocking the drummer onto the snow-covered ground. Paul raised the mallet up to bring it down onto Ringo's head, but was hit out of the way by John's guitar. Paul quickly recovered, however, and rammed John into Ringo with the hammer and backed them into a corner. Just when Paul was about to put them away, George comes flying over the hedge and grabbed onto Paul's back. George pummeled Paul with punches but was thrown off soon after. Once again, the three were trapped in a dead end and were met face-to-face with the Silver Hammer Man. Paul crept towards them once again.

"Time to say 'hello' and 'goodbye'!" threatened Paul.  
"George, Ringo! I just wanna say, in spite of all the danger, it was great working with you!" John cried as his last words.  
"I'd be a nowhere man without you guys!" cried George.  
"You guys were the best friends a guy could ever have! But I've got a feeling it looks like it won't be long…" Ringo said, as the three braced themselves again. However, once again, Harrison Ford comes to the rescue in a last-ditch effort to save them. Ford used his whip to grab the mallet away from Paul. Once Ford had it in his hands, he gave Paul a taste of his own medicine and swung the hammer down upon his head.

"Is…is Paul dead?" Ringo asked.  
"I'd be 29 if he is…and I'm not," replied John.  
"Don't worry. Your friend should be back to normal by morning. Also, I understand that was your boat thing that broke down?"  
"Yes, that's ours," George said.  
"Since I'm up, I'll see what I can do with it. I'll try to have it done as soon as I can. I sued to be a carpenter and all."  
"Thanks, Harrison Ford." John said.  
"No problem, Julia. May the force be with you all."

By next morning, John, George, Ringo, and Paul were in the lobby with their luggage to check out. The creepy clerk was there since the moment the boys had arrived the other day. Paul was rubbing his head and couldn't quite figure out why he was bandaged.

"My goodness, my head is really throbbing. What happened last night, fellas?"  
"Um…we were drinking," Ringo replied, hoping Paul would buy it.  
"…I get that, but…why am I wearing this bandage?"  
"You hit your head with that hammer over there," George answered.  
"Oh, okay…well, remind me to get rid of that thing."

John was talking with the clerk to return the room keys. He was more than happy to be able to finally be leaving the hotel. Their stay was not so much of a good night's rest, but a hard day's fright.

"Here are the keys. Is our sub-mobile ready?"  
"Yes, Mr. Lennon, our groundskeeper just finished. You all have a safe trip now," said the clerk, laughing.  
"Since we're leaving, I just thought I'd say that you're one scary little man."  
"Hahaha, thank you for the compliment, Mr. Lennon, please have a pleasant day now."

Without another word, John and the others headed out to their yellow sub-mobile. Once they got into the vehicle, John noticed Harrison Ford with the two walrus men waving back to him. Not minding the odd sight, John waved back to them and The Beatles were back on the road. They finally exited the mountain region and were greeted with an open field and a long stretch of road.

"Say guys," Paul said, "what do you think about my song?"

Ringo and George looked at one another and then to John, who looked at them in a way as if to say 'just say yes'. The two of them just smiled and nodded.

"Sounds like a great idea, Paul."  
"Yeah, but let's wait for practice until we get to the next stop. I'm still tired." George replied.  
"Sounds like a plan to me."

After an hour or so longer during the drive, Ringo heard an odd sound sputter out of the sub-mobile and felt the vehicle slowing to an unscheduled stop once more.

"Aw, bloody hell!" cried Ringo, as he hit the steering wheel.  
"What is it now? We just got the engine fixed!" John complained.  
Ringo just shook his head, "It's not the engine this time; we forgot to ask Harrison Ford to put gas in this thing!"  
"On the bright side," George said as he pointed out the window, "we can find a gas station in that town over there, hopefully."

Outside the window, the boys found themselves near an old desolate looking town filled with fog. The yellow sub-mobile had stopped right next to the welcome sign for the town. Ringo read it aloud.

"Hmm…Silent Hill? Seems like a nice place, eh mates?"  
"Can't be any worse than the hotel…at least it looks like they have working phone lines," John replied.  
"Well, I guess there's only one way to find out," Paul said as the boys left the yellow sub-mobile.

Little did they know, the quaint little town of Silent Hill is indeed much, much worse...

THE END?

(P.S. How many Beatles references did you find?)


End file.
